


Butter on Burns

by panchostokes (badwolfrun)



Series: Nick/Greg Ficlets [45]
Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Episode Remix, Episode s02e01: Burked, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:41:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21795487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badwolfrun/pseuds/panchostokes
Summary: Greg has a private stash of coffee...that's not so private.
Relationships: Greg Sanders/Nick Stokes
Series: Nick/Greg Ficlets [45]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1257824
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	Butter on Burns

**Author's Note:**

> anon on tumblr: How do you think the team find out Nick is the only one allowed to drink Greg's Blue Hawaiian coffee? *wink wink*

“Hey, what’s up, G?” Nick enters the break room, his foot quickly scraping his ankle as he sits down to soothe an itch that just _won’t stop._ “What’s that smell?”

“That, my friend, would be the smell of heaven in the form of the most exquisite gourmet coffee in the world,” Greg informs him, he holds up the bag of grounds against his chest with an eager smile on his face, as if he had been waiting for this moment all morning…which, in truth, he had. “Want a cup?” 

“Yeah, sure, thanks,” Nick responds as he pulls out a bottle of rubbing alcohol and cotton from the cabinet below the sink. A home remedy that has been almost a tradition in his family when it comes to bug bites. 

“Alright, brewing now. I just gotta run to the can real quick, hang tight. Don’t let anybody drink outta that pot, it’s for you and me only, capiche?” 

“’Kay,” Nick mutters, not really hearing Greg, still distracted by the itch-itch-itching in his leg. He sits down and tries to focus on his papers, groans slightly as he lifts the leg up to cross over his knee, making it easier to scratch and still hold his pen in the other hand and _try_ to get some work done. 

It works for a while, until Grissom’s voice breaks his train of thought. 

“Did you try this coffee?”

“Mm-mmm,” he shakes his head, not quite shrugged out of his thought process, it takes a moment for him to remember that he’s in the break room, and that there is something important about this coffee.

“The last cup I had tasted like motor oil,” Grissom continues, Nick half-smiles with a silent chuckle, is about to make a comment about how they should maybe all pitch in to purchase better coffee when–

_“No-don’t-touch-it-that’s-my-pot!”_

Greg flies into the room like a bullet, stopping right in front of Grissom, who seems unimpressed with the man’s speed. 

“Your pot?” Grissom asks.

“Yeah, you know, from my own private stash,” Oh. That’s right. Nick was supposed to guard the coffee. “Blue Hawaiian, 40 bucks a pound. Only grown a couple times a year on the Big Island, hand-picked to perfection.”

“Good. You’re using my water, so I guess that makes it community coffee. You want a cup, Nick?” 

Nick is only half listening, once again scratching at his irritated skin. 

“No, thanks,” he mumbles, though his nostrils still tickle with the scent. He didn’t deserve it, anyway, after breaking Greg’s trust in failing to protect it. 

“What’s the matter with your leg?”

“I don’t know, man, something back at that house musta’ bit me,” he dabs soaked cotton onto his skin, upset when it doesn’t seem to soothe the sensation right away.

“Ooh, is that alcohol on a bug bite? That’s like butter on burns, man. Wive’s tale,” Greg points out, no obvious anger in his voice, which tells Nick that okay, he isn’t as mad as he could have been over his failure to protect the coffee. One less thing to worry about. 

Though nothing is as worrisome as this itch that just won’t _stop._

“Yeah, this is the guy who told me to put hemorrhoid cream on my acne,” Nick sneers back with unintentional rudeness in his tone. 

“It worked, didn’t it?” Greg smiles, leaving the room with his precious coffee. 

“This is pretty good,” Grissom remarks, holding the cup to Nick. Nick’s mouth waters, maybe once Grissom leaves, he’ll cut a cup himself.

They talk about home remedies and case details for a moment before Grissom exits the room, and just as soon as he leaves, Greg strides back in.

“Forgot something…”

He fills a cup and places it in front of Nick, waits for him to drink it. 

“Thanks,” Nick mutters, nods towards his friend. “Hey, sorry, I was a bit lost in thought…”

“Don’t sweat it. If Grissom likes it enough, maybe he’ll slip me some department money to buy it in bulk,” Greg sits down with his own cup. “For now, I hid the rest next to ‘Babes and Beaches.’“

“You’re sick, man,” Nick laughs. “Brave, too, for keeping your porn stash at work.”

“Least place you’d expect it, though I dunno, there’s some pretty grabby hands ‘round here.”

Nick picks up the cup, smiling over the rim. He takes a sip, and suddenly the itching is gone, momentarily, at least, as he takes in the delicious taste of the best coffee he’s ever drank, and the delicious sight of Greg Sanders, one of the most beautiful men he’s ever laid eyes on.

* * *

Brass, Catherine and Grissom had all left the break room as Nick, Sara, and Warrick remain behind to finish their shared break. Coffee cups are littered all over the table, and Nick can’t help but crave more of that Blue Hawaiian coffee, and the more than that, the man who delivered it to him. 

“Food wasn’t bad,” Sara comments as they clean up the table. 

“Nah, had worse. Coffee could have been better, though.”

“Really? I liked it a lot,” Nick shrugs.

“You liked that dirt that was in the break room?”

“Oh, no, I got a cup from Sanders.”

Sara and Warrick exchange looks.

“Greg…didn’t offer me any of his coffee, did he offer you, any, Sar’?” 

“Mm-mmm,” Sara shakes her head with a small smirk as Nick raises his eyebrows, and feels his ears perk up.

“I mean, I-I don’t know where he got it from, exactly, I was too busy working on my case report to notice, for all I know, might not even be coffee at all, just one of his wacky experiments, who knows what he cooks up in that lab–”

Warrick laughs, claps a hand onto Nick’s shoulder.

“Sure, man,” he chuckles as he leaves the room.

Sara’s voice wavers in one ear, out the other, “Stokes and Sanders sitting in a tree…”

“H-Hey, now, what’s tha’ s’pposed to mean!?” Nick whines, rubbing a hand behind his head before he chases after Sara. “Sara! It’s not like that!”

* * *

“Yo, Cath! You got a sec?” Nick asks, jogging up to the blonde woman as she prepares a fresh pot of coffee.

“Got a few, Nicky, this coffee always seems to take forever to brew. Not that it’s even worth it. What’s up?”

“You got any clear nail polish with ya?” He had tried the cream that he told Grissom he bought, given that he hadn’t gotten a chance to ask Catherine, but it didn’t seem to work and he was running out of options. 

“I do, actually. Didn’t peg you as the type, always thought purple was a better color,” she teases with a wink.

“It’s for these damn bites on my leg, Gris says some nail polish would seal ‘em off and make them stop itching.”

“Course he would. Let me pour a cup and I’ll go dig it out. You want some?”

“Nah, I’m all full up on coffee, but thanks.”

“You drink from Greg’s pot? Word is he had a ‘secret stash.’“

“Nope. Don’t know about it,” Nick answers, a bit more quickly than intended. He bites his lower lip as Catherine finally, slowly, turns her head to look at Nick. He prays that his cheeks aren’t as red, as they feel _extremely_ warm. “Coffee tasted like motor oil when I had it.”

“Hm. That’s what Gil said, too. C’mon, let’s go get you that nail polish.”

On their way, they pass by DNA, with Greg waving through the glass walls. Something flashes across Nick’s face, before he nods and ducks his head, suppressing a smile as he offers a hap-hazard wave to the man.

Catherine sees this, then looks at Greg, who is standing there looking like a smitten kitten, and winks.


End file.
